The Harvest of Grace (36 page)

Beckie gasped for air, tears streaming down her face. She ran out of the room and toward the front door, gaining speed as she went.

“Beckie, wait. Please.” Sylvia ran after her. She caught up to her at the bottom of the porch steps and grabbed her arm. “I didn’t mean to blame you. It’s my fault. I know that, and it’s why I left. I’m so sorry. That kiss meant nothing to Elam, I promise you.”

“We both know better than that,” Beckie screeched. “I hate you for this.”

Sylvia wiped her tears. “What can I do? I ran away from him—from all of you—as soon as I could.”

Beckie held her stomach protectively while taking in a sharp breath. “All this time I’ve missed you, and Elam kept ignoring my pleas to visit, saying that he had no time and that you needed a life of your own. You both make me sick.”

“We made a terrible mistake, Beckie. We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want to hurt you. He loves you.”

“I want to go home.”

Sylvia hesitated. Now that the truth was out, she wanted Beckie to stay and talk to her, to find a bit of peace. She knew her desire to fix the situation was unfair but couldn’t help longing for it.

“Now!” Beckie’s scream flew through the air. “I want to leave now!”

“Okay. Just sit on the porch steps for a minute and breathe. I’ll get Trevor to drive you home.” She’d have to figure out how to get the horse and rig to her later.

Tears blurred Sylvia’s vision as she ran to the barn. She spotted Cara’s father in the calf barn, scrubbing bottles. “Trevor, I need a favor.”

He looked at her with narrowed eyes. “You okay?”

“Will you take my sister home?”

“Sure. I’ll be done here in—”

“She doesn’t want to wait.”

Trevor set the bottles in the mud sink and dried his hands on his pants. “Okay.” He pulled keys out of his pocket. “You want me to pick her up at the cabin?”

“Please. I’ll ride with you.”

They went to his car, which sat under a shade tree, its windows open.

When the cabin came into view, Sylvia saw her sister, overnight bag in hand, sitting on the top step.

“You going too?” Trevor asked.

“No. Wait here.”

“Not a problem.”

Beckie rose, looking pale and shaky.

Sylvia took the bag for her. “He’ll need directions.”

Beckie lifted her apron, revealing the pocket underneath, and pulled out two items: an envelope and a folded piece of paper. She opened the paper. “And to think I was so proud of following these directions to get here.”

“I’m sorry.” Sylvia kept repeating the phrase, but it held no power, no source of relief for her or Beckie. The handwriting on the envelope looked like Aaron’s, and her guilt began to mold into suspicion and anger. She pointed at it. “Who wrote to you?”

Beckie handed the directions to Trevor, then threw the envelope on the ground and hurried to the car. Sylvia put her bag in the backseat.

As Trevor drove out of sight, Sylvia’s dam broke, and she fell to her knees and sobbed.

When she could breathe again, she picked up the envelope from the mud. The return address told her what she’d hoped wasn’t true. Aaron had written to Beckie.

Thirty-Four

From inside Ada’s fenced backyard, Cara dipped an oversized wand with dozens of holes into a vat of homemade bubble mixture. She held it at arm’s length and slowly made a circle. Hundreds of bubbles floated through the air, making Better Days bark with excitement while Lori danced through them.

“Watch me, Mom!” Lori stretched high and gently caressed a bubble in her hands without it bursting. She blew into it, making it larger.

“That’s beautiful.”

“This is the best bubble recipe ever, huh, Mom?”

“The best, Lorabean.”

“Look!” Lori hollered and started running.

Cara turned to see Ephraim coming out of Ada’s house. Lori leaped into his arms, and he lifted her into the air before settling her near his waist.

Cara crossed the yard. “When we’re married, I’m going to jump into your arms whenever you arrive.”

Ephraim grinned and reached for her with his free arm. “Do I have to lift you over my head?”

“Maybe.” She hugged him and Lori at the same time. “We won’t be busy tonight, and I’m not going anywhere, so is this my second chance at a midweek date?”

He set Lori’s feet on the ground. “Show me how well that bubble stuff works.”

Lori hurried to the vat of mixture.

“The bishop and deacon are on their way,” he said quietly. “They’re not more than a minute or two behind me. As far as I know, it’s just a routine visit to see how you’re doing now that you’ve had time to work through some of your issues with Trevor.”

“I’m not in trouble for using secular music to learn the language?”

“How would they know that?”

“Preacher Alvin and Esther noticed a huge, sudden improvement in my comprehension and speaking skills. When they asked, I told them the truth.”

Deborah stepped outside. “The ministers are here. They’re waiting in the living room.”

Cara went ahead of Ephraim, straightening and smoothing her clothes. Being in a test period was no fun, and she looked forward to the day when all this was behind her.

The two men stood in the living room, talking and chuckling.

“Cara.” Sol held out his hand. “I hope we’re not coming at a bad time for you.”

“No. This is fine.”

“Gut.” He motioned to a chair at one end of the room. “Have a seat.” She sat facing the couch and chairs. “Mostly we just want to ask you some questions and keep up with your progress.”

Mostly?

The men, including Ephraim, took seats facing her.

They bowed their heads. Ephraim winked at her before closing his eyes. A minute later he cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes to see the others waiting for her to finish her prayers.

“Cara,” the bishop began, “are you getting along with your dad?”

She was in a sticky situation here. It was her nature to want to tell these men to mind their own business. “What you really want to know is if I’ve forgiven him and how well I’m working that out.”

“Ya, that’s right.”

Saying the words to her dad had been hard enough, and she didn’t do it because these men said she had to. She’d told Ephraim, but only because she wanted the man she loved to share in the joy of reconciliation with her.

Ephraim got up and moved to the chair beside Cara. If anyone understood how difficult she found this kind of meeting, Ephraim did. He took her hand into his. “I think you should just talk about what the last two months with your dad have been like.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, I started seeing Trevor as a man who struggles with his weaknesses, his longing to undo the impossible, and the loss he’s sustained by his own hand. I’ve begun to feel compassion and understanding. It wasn’t because of any one thing, and I have to be honest that his kindness has made forgiving him much easier. If he was as sharp-tongued with me as I’ve been with him at times, I’d still resent him. So I haven’t done anything worthy of accolades. I’d like to get to where I can do what I’m supposed to without the other person having to meet me halfway, but I’m not there yet. I’m sorry if that’s not good enough, but it’s where I am.”

The bishop looked at the deacon and received a nod. “Cara, you still have to complete the instruction classes and be able to converse reasonably well in German and Pennsylvania Dutch. As the leader for the instruction sessions, I can say that everything looks good for you to successfully complete them within the next few weeks. I talked to Alvin, and he assures me you’re doing remarkably well with the languages.”

“What?” She wanted to look to Ephraim for confirmation, but she was afraid he’d fade into nothingness and she’d wake to find herself in bed.

The bishop leaned forward. “Cara, what we’ve come here to say is that we expect you and Ephraim to be able to marry this coming wedding season.”

Her heart leaped, and she jumped up. “Really? I’m doing that well?”

“You are.”

She wanted to dance, but instead she balled her hands into fists. “Yes!”

Ephraim got up and hugged her like a long-lost friend. After several minutes of celebration, she wondered why they were telling her this now.

She and Ephraim separated, still holding hands. “I haven’t completed everything or been baptized yet.”

“True,” the bishop said. “But Ada brought it to my attention that you and Ephraim have made no plans for a wedding this coming season. Since that is no easy feat to pull off, we feel you should be free to begin making plans.”

She knew next to nothing about Amish weddings. What she’d heard about the feasts and the daylong ceremony made little sense to her. She’d never even seen one. “I don’t suppose we could elope?”

“No,” the ministers said in unison, then chuckled at their response.

“Sorry to pounce,” the bishop said, “but no one elopes. If special arrangements need to be made, we do a small wedding in a quick manner.”

“I like the sound of that,” Cara said.

Ephraim leaned in and whispered, “He means if a couple comes up expecting before they’re married.”

“Oh. How many people will we need to invite?”

“Hundreds of people in this community have been looking forward to the day when Ephraim marries,” the bishop said. “They will feel cheated if they don’t get to attend the wedding.”

Cara’s mouth went dry, and she glanced at Ephraim. “Hundreds?”

“If we’re careful with the invitation list,” Ephraim said, “I imagine we could keep it down to six hundred guests.”

Cara laughed. “Six hundred? And we’re to feed them two meals, cakes, drinks, and whatever else the day calls for? I hope God still multiplies fishes and loaves.” She knew she had loved ones who’d enjoy sharing the work load. She wasn’t sure how she’d foot the bill, but after all it’d taken to get to this point, coming up with the money was nothing. She gestured toward the kitchen door. “This calls for a celebration. May I fix you a plate of our best desserts and something to drink?”

Aaron walked the silt fence line with a mallet in one hand and the horse’s reins in the other, making sure the stakes were driven deeply enough to hold against the torrents of rain predicted for tomorrow afternoon.

He had hours of double-checking ahead of him, but if he could get done today, he could help Sylvi with the routine farm work tomorrow. Then maybe they’d both have enough energy to go out that night.

An odd sensation skittered over him, causing him to stop and scan the field. Finally he spotted Sylvi marching toward him. The intensity of her steps caused him to mount his horse and ride to her.

“Hello there.”

She shook something at him. “Explain this to me.”

He slid off his horse, and she thrust an envelope at him. One glance and he knew what it was. “Did she mail it back?”

“No. She came here.” Sylvi’s eyes swam with tears. “How could you do something behind my back like this? I trusted you.”

Her body and voice trembled as she spoke. He’d known she and Beckie would probably have a rough meeting at first, but she was beyond upset. Something had gone very wrong. “I shouldn’t have sent it without your permission.”

Sylvia balled her hands into fists, crunching the paper into nothing. “She didn’t know!” Sylvia sobbed. “Not until today.”

“Didn’t know what?”

She bent slightly, looking as if she might collapse. “She’s Elam’s wife!”

A jolt thundered through him, and then the scope of the situation became clear. This was why Sylvi struggled deeply to forgive herself. “I didn’t know.”

“But you knew enough. You knew I’d come here willing to end all communication with my family.” She walked off.

He ran after her. “I thought it was because of a spat of some kind.”

“You thought you could get rid of me by bringing Beckie here. It’d be all you needed to get Michael and Dora to sell this place, wouldn’t it?” She hurried away.

“Sylvi, please.”

She turned. “Say it, Aaron. Look me in the eyes, and tell me the real reason you did this.”

The betrayal reflected in her eyes made him sick, and he couldn’t defend his actions.

She tightened her fists and screamed toward the sky—a painful, broken cry. Then she folded her arms and slowly gained control of her tears. “You wanted me gone, and you didn’t care what it took to accomplish it.”